Aftermath
by echizenryo
Summary: Eiji x Oishi. The Golden Pair has made it through their first fight, but when a new, deadlier crisis arises, will they be strong enough to survive it? [Spoilers for ep 52. Warnings: Angst, violence, nasty homophobic language.] [ch. 4]
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Aftermath  
**Author:** echizenryo  
**Rating:** T  
**Spoilers:** Episode 52  
**Summary:** In which the Golden Pair sort through the aftermath of their First Fight, Oishi blames himself, and Momo tries for a free meal. Eiji x Oishi, ep 52-centric. An epic battle of Angst vs. Fluff!

* * *

**Aftermath**  
by echizenryo

_Oishi_

Eiji is speaking to me again. I can't tell you how…well, how relieved I am that things are okay between us again. The thought of losing what we have, of losing the Golden Pair…it gives me this horrible, dark, _squeezing_ feeling in my chest, like I can't breathe, like I'm dying.

I guess that sounds kind of over-dramatic, but it's true. This past day, not speaking to Eiji…I never realized before how much a part of my life he is, and I can't tell you how many times I almost ran up to him and begged him to forgive me just so things could be normal again, so I could breathe again.

I didn't, though. Maybe because every time I thought about it, Fuji was always right there beside Eiji like some kind of bodyguard—and it seemed almost like he knew what I was thinking of doing, because every time I would just be tensing my muscles to go over there, he would glance over at me and shake his head, just a little.

So I didn't go up to Eiji. I didn't apologize, and I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me that he never even glanced in my direction, that he spent the whole day laughing and talking and bouncing around like he usually does.

I guess it hurt me a little, to realize that he can get along so well without me. But then, that's Eiji. He doesn't need anyone else to make him happy; he's the one who gives happiness to _other_ people, even idiots like me who throw it away over something silly like teasing me over my shirt being inside-out.

I keep running that moment through my mind, and I still don't know why I did it. Why I hit him. I honestly feel sick when I think about it, and it seems like I can still hear that sound my hand made when it hit into his chest—and I know I can still see the look in his eyes. Shocked. Hurt.

Betrayed.

But that's all in the past now, right? Because like you'd expect from Eiji, he's gone from being furious enough to break up the Golden Pair…to having completely forgiven me. I thought that maybe there'd be some lingering coolness between us or something afterwards, but no—Eiji's treating me exactly like he always has, so I guess he really _has_ forgiven me.

I haven't, though. Forgiven me, I mean. How can I? Even when it was happening, when I was _so angry_, some part of me still understood that Eiji didn't mean anything by what he was saying. He was just being Eiji, and I don't think he understands, even now, what he did that would make me hit him.

God, I still can't believe I did that. I _hit_ him. I hit Eiji.

How can he even stand to be around me after that? How can he have forgiven me?

I don't know. I should probably stop obsessing over this. I mean, everything seems normal between us, the Golden Pair is reunited…but I can't stop feeling sick inside over how I acted, and I have to keep fighting the urge to talk to him about it, to ask him how he could possibly forgive me…

But I know I won't do it. I won't talk to him about it, because I'm a coward, and because I don't want to risk losing him when I've just gotten him back.

I really am pathetic, aren't I?

* * *

_Eiji_

Hoi-hoi, Eiji here. Good day today. Great practice (got Ochibi really mad by pinching his cheek every time he walked by, hehe!), and Oishi and me are talking again. Which is good, because without Oishi, Tezuka might've made me play doubles with Ochibi or Momo, and then we'd lose every game and never get to Nationals!

Hehe. Well, playing doubles with Fuji isn't too bad, so I guess it would be okay if they paired me with him. I think we could probably win just as many games as me and Oishi, but…

Well, I guess it just doesn't feel like doubles unless Oishi's with me.

Nya, but it doesn't matter now, 'cause things are okay with us again. We're still the Golden Pair, and so whoever we face next better watch out!

And I mean, even when I was really mad at Oishi and said that we shouldn't play together anymore…nya, I didn't mean it. Honnnto. I was just mad, 'cause nya, Oishi hit me! Oishi's never hit _anybody_ before, and I still don't know what I did that made him want to do that. Guess maybe he was just having a bad day?

Still, I wish he hadn't done it. It didn't hurt that much—I take harder falls than that during practice matches!—but I've never seen Oishi look so mad before, and even though I don't think I did anything wrong, it still kinda _felt_ like I did. 'Cause I mean, it's _Oishi_. He doesn't get mad over nothing. He might glare at me a little when I overfeed his fish or when I start humming anime theme songs while he's trying to study, but he never yells at me or hits me or anything. Oishi just isn't like that.

But when he gets _really_ angry, it's because something is really wrong, or someone _did_ something really wrong. So I guess I did something wrong.

Except that I _didn't_. And I think maybe that's why I was so mad when he hit me, because Oishi doesn't get that angry over nothing but I didn't _do_ anything and so it didn't make any sense, but I trust Oishi and I know he wouldn't hit me for no reason, so…it was just all very confusing and weird, and it made me feel bad and kinda sick, and then just really angry. Because it was like…it was like everything was wrong. Oishi wasn't acting like Oishi, and nothing made any sense.

But nya, it's okay now. Whatever made Oishi act like that, I can forget about it. The Golden Pair is too important.

And anyway, today was really hard. Before we made up, I mean. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't talking to Oishi, and I kept glancing over at him when he wasn't looking. It just felt _wrong_ not talking to him, which is weird since I spend more time with Fuji than I do with Oishi. But I kept thinking of things I wanted to tell him…and then I'd remember that I couldn't because we weren't talking, and I guess I just really missed being able to tell him stuff, and knowing that he'd always be there when I needed to talk to him.

I tried to pretend like it didn't bug me, though, because I didn't want him to think I was feeling bad about us not talking. Because nya, it was _his_ fault for hitting me, and if I felt bad, then that'd make it look like it was _my_ fault and… Nyaaaaa, I don't know. This is all really confusing.

Anyway, things are okay now. And that's all that matters, right?

* * *

_Oishi_

I can't take this anymore. I have to talk to him about it. I have to make him understand…what? That I didn't mean it? That it wasn't his fault? That I'm sorry?

I don't know. Maybe I'll figure it out when I start talking.

Anyway, I've decided to do it today. Today, after practice, I'll take him to that noodle place he likes, and we can talk about it there. And maybe if I know that he understands, I'll stop feeling so guilty every time I'm around him.

* * *

_Eiji_

Oishi asked me if I wanted to go to that great noodle place today after practice. He seemed kind of nervous, which made _me_ kind of nervous, but I said I'd go anyway—'cause nya, it's always fun spending time with Oishi, and when we go out to eat, a lot of the time he pays for me just 'cause he's nice like that, and he knows that I have to save my money for stuff like extra-bouncy tennis shoes.

But yeah, so after practice, we got changed and then left for the noodle place. And all the way there, Oishi kept not looking at me, and I started wondering if maybe he didn't want to be friends again after all, if maybe he'd changed his mind or something, and so then I started not looking at _him_…

Nyaaa. I guess things might've stayed like that, but when we were a couple blocks away from the restaurant, Oishi stopped and looked over at me, like he'd just noticed that I wasn't looking at him. And he smiled that nice Oishi smile and said, "Daijobu, Eiji," like he knew exactly what I was thinking. And then he said, "Gomen. I'm not trying to ignore you, I'm just…I have a lot on my mind."

I grinned at him, really relieved, and said, "Nya, you _always_ have a lot on your mind."

He smiled again, and everything seemed like it was back to normal again. He still seemed kinda nervous, but I just figured he probably _did_ have a lot on his mind, and so I acted like I usually do when Oishi's worrying about something—I tried to joke him out of it, make him laugh. And he did a little bit, but it was almost like…

Well, nya, it's weird, but it was almost like me trying to make him laugh made him sad for some reason, or made him worry more. So I quit it after awhile, and by the time we got to the noodle place, things were kind of weird and awkward between us again.

* * *

_Oishi_

I decided to wait until we'd ordered our food before trying to say anything. I told myself that it was just so I wouldn't have to be distracted by the waiter in mid-thought, but truthfully, it was more because I was scared. Things between Eiji and I had finally started to feel right again, and suddenly I wasn't so sure that I wanted to risk that just for the sake of my own peace of mind.

He caught onto my mood pretty quickly—but then, he always does. And I felt bad, not being able to respond to him with anything brighter than a half-hearted smile, but I just couldn't make myself relax. I kept running the words I'd been rehearsing through my head—_Listen, Eiji…I think we need to talk about what happened the other day._—and telling myself that any second now, I was going to say them…any second now, I was going to open my mouth and spit them out. But the moment just kept sliding further and further away, and before I knew it the waiter had come back with our food and—

Well, I couldn't bring it up while we were _eating_. So I told myself that I would do it afterwards, when we were through with our meals.

Only I was through with mine right away, because my stomach was all twisted into knots from all the worrying I was doing, and so I only managed to get in a few bites before I had to stop.

Eiji was attacking his noodles with the usual enthusiasm, shoveling them into his mouth and still managing to keep up a constant chatter in the meantime. I found myself just sitting there and watching him, shaking my head a little because I really don't understand how he hasn't managed to choke himself by now, the way he eats.

After awhile, I guess he felt my eyes on him, because he glanced up at me with a noodle still hanging from his mouth, and blinked at me with this curious, confused look on his face.

"Nyani?"

He slurped up the noodle and spent a few seconds chewing.

"Oishi, daijobu? You're not eating."

There was a little smear of soy sauce on his chin from the noodle. I didn't really think about what I was doing—I just picked up my napkin and reached across the table to wipe it away. About halfway through the motion, though, I realized what I was doing and stopped, the napkin still pressed to his chin. He blinked at me again for a second, looking surprised, and then I pulled back my hand and the napkin and wondered what the hell I'd been thinking.

"Go…gomen," I managed, feeling my cheeks warming but not really knowing what I could do about it. I glanced up at him, hoping he wasn't keeping silent because I'd genuinely made him mad…

But he was just sitting there, smiling at me. He didn't look angry, or like he thought it was strange, me doing something like that. He just looked…well, kind of pleased. Like I'd passed some secret test or something, or said just the right words—only that was ridiculous, since I hadn't said anything at all.

"Arrigato," he said softly, and it was strange, but he sounded almost shy.

That was when I knew I could tell him.

* * *

_Eiji_

Oishi's the nicest person I know. Honnnnto nya. He really cares about people, and cares _for_ them—he's one of those people who really takes care of his friends.

So I guess that's why I just really didn't get it when he hit me, 'cause that's not the kind of thing he does.

But when he reached over and wiped my face for me…I suddenly felt really good, 'cause everything was back to the way it was supposed to be. Oishi was taking care of me again, and even if things were still kinda weird between us, I knew that everything was gonna be okay, 'cause Oishi still cared.

Nya, I guess that sounds all weird and mushy, but it's true. Oishi always takes care of me. He helps me up when I fall down, he peels off those annoying little sticky-flaps on the band-aids when I hurt myself—he even gave me his lunch once, when I forgot to bring mine. He doesn't even think about that stuff when he does it, either—he just _does_ it. It's natural for him.

But the best part of all is when he does something like that…and then he gets all embarrassed and starts blushing and apologizing—like I _mind_ when he does something nice for me! Nya, for somebody so smart, Oishi can sure be dense sometimes!

But yeah, so after he wiped my face with his napkin, he went all red and looked away and said that he was sorry. And usually when he does that, I hurry up and tell him that it's okay, and maybe flick him between the eyes ('cause it's fun and he deserves it sometimes)…but something about this time was different.

Maybe it was 'cause I'd missed him so much when we weren't talking, or maybe it was just 'cause I'd forgotten how nice and gentle Oishi's hands are. Whatever it was, though, when I opened my mouth to tell him it was okay, no harm done, nya, what came out instead was, "Arrigato."

And I guess maybe I let some of the emotion into my voice even though I didn't mean to, because Oishi suddenly looked really surprised, and kind of happy, but also really determined all of a sudden. I didn't know what that was about, but I didn't have too much time to think about it, 'cause all of a sudden he reached across the table and got a hold of my wrist, holding it in a real loose kind of grip that made these weird, warm tingles go up and down my arm.

"Eiji," he said, and there was something in his voice that made me a little afraid, even though it was hard to feel that way when his hand was all warm and tight on my arm. "I think we need to talk about what happened the other day."

* * *

_Oishi_

I honestly wasn't sure how he was going to react to that. I guess I expected some sort of big reaction, or…well, _any_ reaction, really. But he just nodded at me and didn't say anything at all, like he was waiting to see what else I had to say.

The only problem was that I hadn't thought this far into it. I knew how to open the conversation, and I knew vaguely what I needed to discuss with him, but how to go into it? How to phrase it so it didn't come out sounding all wrong? I didn't have a clue how to go about it, so I just sat there for a few seconds, not saying anything, my hand still wrapped around his wrist. I probably should've let go of him, or not touched him at all, but Eiji and I have always been about touch. It's a big part of how we communicate, and I guess it just…makes me feel closer to him.

So I didn't let go. And he didn't move away. He sat there, just as still as I was, and waited patiently for me to get my thoughts together. And after a few more panicked seconds, when I realized that I _still_ didn't know what on earth I was going to say to him, he reached over with his other hand and wrapped his fingers over top of mine.

That was all I needed. I drew a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Eiji…I'm sorry. I know I said it before, but I'm not sure if you understand that I really mean it, and that…well, I don't know if you understand why I…did what I did. And I realize that I should just drop it and let it be, but I wanted you to understand why I—" My voice caught on the word despite my best efforts. "—hit you."

I let out a breath that shook just the slightest bit, and realized that I had lowered my eyes to the table.

"I shouldn't have done it," I said quietly. "And I never would have, if I had been thinking clearly at the time. But I wasn't. I was frustrated, and it had been a long day, and I was worried about Momo…and I guess I just felt like the whole team was falling apart, and it was my responsibility to hold it together." I closed his eyes. "I know you didn't mean it, what you said about Momo. I know you weren't trying to be…hurtful, or mean, but if you _had_ said that to him, I know he would've…"

"You were trying to protect him," Eiji said, very softly, "na, Oishi?"

I opened my eyes, feeling Eiji's fingers tightening over mine.

"You were trying to take care of him," Eiji went on, "'cause he was hurting, only not in a way we could see."

I nodded, slowly, thinking that for someone who spent half his life bouncing around making cat noises, Eiji could be incredibly intuitive sometimes. "Aa."

He lowered his eyes. "Gomen, Oishi," he whispered.

* * *

_Eiji_

People tease me sometimes, 'cause they say I act like a little kid. And I guess I do. But no matter how much I act like it, I'm _not_ a kid, and just 'cause Oishi's nice enough to always take care of me…well, nya, that doesn't mean he should always have to do that, always have to be strong all by himself! I mean, what kind of a doubles team would we be if he did all the playing and I just stood there?

"Gomen, Oishi," I said, lowering my head because it felt like the right thing to do—the kind of thing Oishi would do. "I didn't back you up."

I guess that didn't make a lot of sense to him, 'cause he frowned at me. "Eiji…"

"You were trying to hold everything together by yourself," I said, really hoping I could get this out in a way that Oishi would understand, because it was suddenly really important to me that he _did_ understand. "Nya, like you always do. And I should've been there to help you, but I wasn't. I didn't even know that you needed help. It's kinda like…" I looked up at him. "It's kinda like when we first started playing doubles, and we kept losing matches 'cause I never looked back to see where you were. I was just trying to play by myself, and since you were behind me, I almost forgot that you were even there.

"But just 'cause I can't see you…well, nya, that's no excuse for not knowing what's going on with you. I should _know_. And I should be there to back you up, like…like you always are for me."

Oishi shook his head, like he didn't know what to say. "Eiji," he said after a few seconds, "I didn't bring this up to make you feel bad. I just…I wanted to make you understand…"

"Hoi, I know. And I do. Understand, I mean. But I'm still sorry that I made you want to hit me."

Oishi looked mad all of a sudden. Really mad.

"Nothing," he said in this really angry, shaking kind of voice, "should give me the right to hit you! I don't care what you say or do, Eiji, there is no excuse for me doing something like that! We're _partners_. We're supposed to take care of each other, not…not _hit_ each other over stupid…senseless…ridiculous…" He shook his head, looking all sad and miserable and ashamed, and that was when I figured it out.

Oishi felt really guilty about hitting me.

I guess I should've figured that out way earlier, 'cause nya, this was _Oishi_ after all, but it'd just never occurred to me. Oishi felt really guilty. And suddenly I understood why things were weird between us, and why us acting like normal made Oishi feel sad.

'Cause Oishi didn't think I should've forgiven him. And maybe he thought that once I figured that out too, I'd go back to being mad at him and stay that way.

And I guess I still _was_ a little mad at him, before he said that. I mean, just 'cause he apologized and I apologized didn't mean that I forgot about how it felt, having him hit me for what seemed like no reason.

But when I finally figured out what was going on with him, it was like all the rest of the anger went _poof!_ and was gone, just like that. 'Cause I _understood_ now. I knew why he'd done it, and it wasn't because he was acting not-like-Oishi, it was 'cause he _was_. 'Cause he was trying to take care of one of his friends, only since that friend wasn't me, I didn't get it right then.

But I did now. I got it.

I let go of Oishi's hand and stood up. I guess he thought I was leaving because I was mad at him or something, because he got this really sad look on his face and wouldn't look at me. But I wasn't going far. I was just walking around to his side of the table, because I suddenly really wanted to be close to him, maybe so he'd believe me when I told him it was all right.

'Cause I don't know, I can't really say stuff well. I can talk about whatever for a long time, but when it's important stuff…I have a hard time getting it out. And this was _really important_, so I knew I couldn't risk it coming out wrong. And the only way to do that…well, was to not say anything at all.

I nudged Oishi with my elbow. He looked up at me, all surprised 'cause remember, he thought I was walking out on him. And then he figured out what I wanted and slid over so I could sit down beside him. Which I did. And then I reached over and wrapped my arms around him and hugged him, hard.

He seemed pretty surprised at first, like he wasn't sure what was going on. So I just held onto him and waited, 'cause it felt good and anyway, I wasn't gonna let go until he understood what I was trying to tell him.

He got it, finally. I knew 'cause all of a sudden, he started hugging me back. His arms went around my back and he held me really tight, so tight I could feel his heart beating against my chest.

My family really likes hugging, so I've been hugged about a hundred million times in my life. I'm really used to it, and so I don't even really notice it anymore, what it feels like when somebody hugs me

But when Oishi did it…I noticed. I noticed a lot of weird, little things, like the way his shampoo smelled, and the way his breath tickled my ear, and the way I couldn't get close enough to him no matter how tight we pressed together. And I guess I knew that it was weird to feel like that when it was _Oishi_, but I couldn't help it. It just felt really good, and right, and like we…fit together in just the right way.

I guess I shouldn't have held onto him for so long. I mean, nya, we were in a _restaurant_ after all, and people were probably staring at us—and Oishi maybe didn't like the hug as much as I did—but I just really didn't want to let go. I wanted to hold onto him forever, 'cause when we were close like this, I knew that everything was okay with us.

But I knew it had to end sometime. The restaurant would have to close in a few hours, at least! But I told myself that _Oishi _would have to be the one to do it, 'cause no way I was going to! So I kept waiting for him to let go of me. I kept waiting for him to sit back and pull away.

Only…he kept not doing it.

He just kept holding onto me. And I just kept holding onto him. And I don't know how long we sat like that, but after awhile I felt this little tap-tap-tap on my shoulder, and I turned my head with this sleepy kind of blink and looked up—

And Momo was standing there, and Ochibi was standing beside him, and behind them were Fuji and Taka.

I guess I should've been embarrassed or something, but all I felt was annoyed, 'cause now I had to let go of Oishi and who knew when I'd be able to hug him again!

Which, I guess, was a weird thing to think, but I didn't really care. But I figured Oishi might, so I sighed and let go of him and sat back against the booth.

"A-Ano…minna," Oishi said when he saw everybody. "What brings you here?"

* * *

_Oishi_

Everyone was here. And they had seen…

_What?_ I asked myself defensively. _What_ had they seen, except me hugging Eiji, which was perfectly normal and nothing at all to be ashamed of?

Momo scratched the back of his head, looking uncomfortable, and managed to get out that he and the others had heard us discussing our post-practice plans, and apparently thought that tagging along in the hopes of a free meal might be a good idea.

"Apparently not," Echizen muttered.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Not because of what Echizen had said, but just because I felt so…so _good_, like everything was right again. Eiji and I were together again, the Golden Pair, and our friends were with us, and everything was all right. So after I finished laughing, and while everyone was still staring at me like I was completely insane, I smiled and waved for the others to sit down.

Momo grinned and started to do just that, rubbing his hands together and talking about how hungry he was—but Fuji caught his arm and held him in place.

"Iya," Fuji said, "daijobu. We shouldn't have interrupted."

And while I watched, a little startled, Fuji managed to drag a protesting Momo and the others away from our table and out the door, not looking like he was exerting himself at all while he was doing it. Taka-san gave us a polite wave as they went, and then the door to the restaurant jingled closed, and Eiji and I were alone again.

Eiji…

I wondered what he was thinking. If he was wondering why I'd held onto him for so long, or if he knew that it was all I could do not to reach out to touch him again, to pull him close to me.

We didn't say much after that, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was the kind where you just don't _need_ to say anything, because just by being there, you're saying all you need to say.

* * *

_Eiji_

I thought about going back to my side of the table after Fuji and everybody left, but I didn't want to. I wanted to stay right where I was, with Oishi sitting so close to me that our shoulders touched, so I reached across the table for my plate and got back to eating. And nya, I know it sounds dumb, but I swear the noodles tasted better after that! Honto nya! And I guess maybe Oishi thought so too, 'cause he actually started eating his, and pretty soon we were acting just like we used to, eating our noodles and talking about random stuff and just acting like everything was normal.

Only it wasn't _exactly_ like normal, because we were sitting _really_ close to each other now, and every time Oishi reached for his napkin, his hand brushed against mine, and I liked the way it felt, warm little tingles going up my arm.

We talked for a really long time, which was great, and then Oishi walked me home and we stood on the porch for a little while, still talking about stupid stuff and laughing about whatever. Then I yawned, 'cause I was pretty tired by that point, and Oishi got this soft look on his face and told me he should get going, 'cause I should go inside and get to sleep.

Only…I really didn't want him to go. I guess it sounds silly, and I knew it couldn't happen, but I kinda wished that he could come inside and stay with me, 'cause everything was better with Oishi around, and so wouldn't it be great if he could _always_ be around?

I knew it was dumb, though, and so I didn't say it. But when he was getting ready to leave, I really felt like I had to say _something_, or…or _do_ something, so I hurried over to him before he could leave and gave him another hug.

"Arrigato, Oishi," I said. I never noticed before, but it was really nice, the way my chin fit over his shoulder, and the way it felt when his arms came up around me and pulled me all tight and close.

His voice was quiet, right in my ear 'cause we were still hugging. "For what?"

I didn't really know, so I just hugged him harder. After awhile, though, I knew I should let go, so I did.

We just stood there for a little while after that, not saying anything. The moon was out, and so everything looked all glowy and silvery, even Oishi's eyes.

"Well," he said after a couple minutes, "I should get going."

I nodded. I still didn't want him to go, and I didn't say it, but I really wanted to hug him again. Who knew hugging your doubles partner could feel so good? I wondered for a sec if Fuji'd ever tried it with Taka, but then I thought that that was a weird thing to think about and so I put it out of my mind.

"I'll see you in school tomorrow, Eiji…"

"Hoi. Ja ne, Oishi."

He was taking these little backwards steps, like he really didn't want to leave either. I thought it was pretty silly, both of us wanting to stay together but neither of us saying it, so I took a step forward and opened my mouth—

But Oishi I guess thought of the same thing at the same time, 'cause he stepped forward too and suddenly we were standing really close together, like we were going to hug again but not, and I didn't really understand it but I kept looking at Oishi's mouth like I was waiting for him to say something, only I didn't know what…

But I guess Oishi did, 'cause while I was still trying to figure it all out, he reached out, really gently, and put his hand on the side of my face. And then he leaned in and kissed me.

Everything went kind of still and warm for a little while, and I thought a little dimly that there _was_ something better than hugging Oishi, and that was this. I felt all warm and safe and protected, but at the same time, it was like I was standing up on top of a cliff or something—like if I took one wrong step, I might slip over the edge and fall. It was like Oishi kissing me was safe and dangerous at the same time, and even though I felt really warm and good when he did it, there was also this explosion of butterflies in my stomach, and this feeling in my chest like I was either going to laugh or start crying.

And I guess that's a lot to feel just from somebody putting his lips on yours, but that's what it felt like.

Anyway, so after a little while, and just when I was starting to get the hang of how to move my lips so it wasn't just Oishi doing the kissing, he all of a sudden let go of me and took a little step backwards. He looked really nervous, even more nervous than back when we were walking to the noodle place, and his face was all flushed like we'd just played a hard match or something.

I knew what he was gonna do. Because he was Oishi, he was gonna start stammering and apologizing, and I really didn't want him to do that so I figured I'd better shut him up somehow. And since it didn't seem fair, him ambushing me with a kiss like that when I was just a beginner, I decided to ambush _him_ and show him what I'd picked up. 'Cause you know, I'm a pretty fast learner, and so I figured that if Oishi and me practiced for awhile longer, I could get to be pretty good at this kissing thing.

So I wrapped my arms around Oishi's neck and kissed him, and nya, guess what? My plan worked. He didn't apologize. And neither did I, when I finally let go of him awhile later.

I guess about then, it hit me that we were still standing out on my front porch where the neighbors or my family or anybody could see us. But just like in the restaurant, I didn't care. I just wanted to be close to Oishi, so since we were done kissing (for now), I tried hugging him again, and was really happy when he hugged me back without hesitating at all.

"Eiji," he whispered. He wasn't just holding me like he did before—his one hand was rubbing all nice and slow against my back, and the other one was sliding through my hair. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed how it felt for a little while.

"Na, Oishi…" I said after awhile.

"Hai?"

I grinned and tilted my head back so I could look up at him. "Let's go out for noodles more often, nya?"

He smiled back at me, and for the first time in a really long time, he didn't look worried, or nervous, or upset. He just looked happy, and like Oishi.

Like _my_ Oishi. And if me kissing him could make him look like that…well, nya, then I was gonna have to do it a lot more often.

"Oyasumi, Eiji," he said in this soft voice. Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, which should've made me feel all embarrassed but really just made me feel like I was loved. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I smiled. "Oyasumi, Oishi."

I watched him go down the walk and turn onto the road, and even when I couldn't see him anymore, I still stood out there for awhile, leaning against the porch railing and grinning.

I guess I should've gone inside. I mean, it was late and I was tired, but I just really wanted to stay out there where Oishi kissed me, 'cause if I closed my eyes and stood out there, it was like I could still feel him holding onto me…

I was still standing there with my eyes closed when I heard somebody coming up the walk. I knew it wasn't Oishi—I'd know his footsteps anywhere—so I opened my eyes to see who was coming over so late. I thought it might be my sister's boyfriend, since he comes by sometimes to drop off homework or notes or something…

But it wasn't him. It was somebody else, somebody big whose face I couldn't see since the moon went behind a cloud right then. He stopped when he saw me, and I was all ready to ask who he was and what he wanted…when all of a sudden something hit me really hard on the back of my head, so hard that I felt it ring through my whole body. It made me feel really dizzy and sick, but I still tried to turn around, 'cause I didn't understand what had happened or why and I thought that if I could just turn around and see what had hit me, then I'd know and it'd be okay.

But something was really wrong with me, 'cause I couldn't turn too well, and my knees were suddenly really weak and wobbly, and before I knew it I was falling. I hit the porch floor hard, but it was like it was happening to somebody else—I barely felt it.

What I did feel were the big, rough hands that grabbed me and picked me up and started carrying me away. I tried to struggle, or yell, or do _something_, but everything was all fuzzy and weird, and I couldn't do anything but lie there. Which I knew was really bad—I mean, somebody was taking me away to who-knew-where and if I didn't do something, nobody was gonna know where I was. _Oishi_ wasn't gonna know where I was, and then he'd get all worried and I wouldn't be there to joke him out of it, and then what would he do?

But even though I really, really wanted to get away, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't move, and it was like the night was getting darker, like the moon wasn't just going behind a cloud but was _disappearing_, and by the time I realized that I was going to pass out, it was too late, and I did.

I dreamed about Oishi. He was sitting beside me and petting my hair, and telling me in this quiet, sad voice that everything was gonna be okay, but my head hurt so much that I couldn't answer him, or tell him not to worry, or do anything at all but lie there.

When I woke up again, I was in a dark little room and my hands were tied behind my back, and I knew that I was in big trouble.

* * *

_To Be Continued…

* * *

_

**japanese glossary:**

_ochibi_ – eiji's nickname for ryoma  
_nya / hoi_ – nonsense words eiji uses periodically  
_honto_ - really  
_nani?_ - what?  
_daijobu_ – i'm all right / are you all right?  
_arrigato_ – thank you  
_aa_ - yes  
_gomen_ - i'm sorry  
_ano_ – um…  
_minna_ - everyone  
_iya_ - no  
_ja ne_ – later / see ya! (informal)  
_oyasumi_ – goodnight  
_yarou!_ – bastard! (proper insult to fling at authors who end on evil cliffhangers after sudden, angsty plot twists)


	2. Chapter 2

Aftermath: Part II

* * *

_who_

Fuji was worried. It wasn't an emotion he was accustomed to, or one he handled well, and so when Tezuka snapped at him for missing another shot due to inattention, he felt perfectly justified in walking off the court, putting away his racket, and leaving practice without a word to anyone. He felt Tezuka's eyes on him the whole way, but he didn't turn around, nor did he answer when Taka-san sent a concerned, "Fuji?" in his direction. He just kept on walking, and it wasn't until he stepped off of school property that his feet finally dragged to a halt.

The tennis bag felt heavy on his shoulder, weighing him down, so he let it drop. It hit the concrete with a muffled thud, stirring up a haze of dust that caught in his throat, stung his eyes. He blamed the sudden blurriness of his vision on that, and calmly reached up to wipe the tears away.

Eiji had been missing for three days.

He remembered exactly where he'd been when they got the news. He'd thought it strange that Eiji was missing from class that day, but he hadn't thought too much of it. There were a thousand and one perfectly logical reasons why Eiji might be absent from school, and so Fuji didn't waste time worrying over it. He wasn't Oishi, after all. He just paid extra attention in class—which, for him, was still minimal—and actually devoted himself to taking a few notes, since he was sure Eiji would need them when he returned.

It was lunchtime when one of the freshman—Horio—came up to him with the news of an impromptu tennis team meeting at the club house. Again, he thought little of it. It wasn't until he stepped inside and saw the team members sitting in utter silence and stillness that he realized something was wrong. Ryuzaki was standing at the front of the room, her customary gruffness softened by the worry lining her face.

"Come in and sit down, Fuji," she said, noticing him standing there, frozen, in the doorway.

He didn't move. The sense of _wrong_ness hung heavy in the air, almost choking him with sudden, irrational fear. He tried to tell himself that he was overreacting, that just because it was clearly bad news didn't mean it was worth getting this upset over…but one look at his teammates told him otherwise. Their faces were pale and serious, not a word or glance passing between them.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly.

Approach the situation calmly and logically. Find out what's going on, and then deal with it.

Ryuzaki sighed. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Fuji, but the school's just had a call from Kikumaru's parents."

There was an icy tightness in his chest all of a sudden, cold and clenching. It was all he could do to open his mouth and ask, "What happened?"

"Kikumar…_Eiji_…didn't come home last night after practice. His parents have looked everywhere, checked with everyone they know, but no one seems to have any idea where he is. I called this meeting on the request of his parents, to ask if any of you had seen him, or knows where he might have gone."

"Oishi," he managed. Not liking the shaky sound of his voice, he cleared his throat and went on, "He was with Eiji last night. If anyone knows where Eiji is…"

But Ryuzaki was already shaking her head, and it was only then that he noticed. His eyes scanned the assembled group, going from one taut, worried face to the next. Tezuka. Inui. Kaidoh. Momoshiro. Echizen. Taka-san. But the one face he knew he _should_ be seeing—the face that should be the most worried of them all—was nowhere to be found.

"It's no good," Ryuzaki said softly. "Oishi is missing, too."

* * *

Fuji closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone wall that surrounded the school. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Two friends and teammates gone missing, no one with any idea as to what had happened to them or where they might be, and with every passing day, the chances of their safe return grew slimmer. 

It was like something out of a nightmare.

A hand closed gently over his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see Taka-san standing beside him, his face caught in its usual open, honest expression, his large brown eyes hiding nothing.

"Fuji," Taka said in a quiet voice. He seemed to want to say more, but the words must have failed him, because he just shook his head. His hand still rested on Fuji's arm.

Fuji managed a slight smile for his usual doubles partner, and reached over to cover Taka's hand lightly with his own. "You should go back to practice, Taka-san. Tezuka won't go easy on you for leaving early."

Taka shook his head. "I could say the same to you."

"Aa, you could."

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Then Taka-san's grip on his arm tightened, just noticeably, and those large brown eyes suddenly averted their gaze.

"I know you're really worried about him," Taka said in a low, determined voice. "Them. I am too. We _all_ are. But Fuji…" He shook his head, his thick brows pushing together in a frown. He was silent for another moment, then his eyes suddenly snapped up to meet Fuji's.

"Demo Fuji," he said more firmly, "we have to stick together. All of us, as a team. It's the only way we can get through this. And…we're stronger together, aren't we? If we stay together, I know we'll be okay, and when Oishi and Eiji come back, we'll be able to be there for them, like real teammates. Like real _friends_. But if we fall apart… If we let this tear us apart, then…then…"

There was no more dust from the sidewalk, so he couldn't blame the sudden stinging of his eyes on that. Nor did he have any excuse for reaching out to take Taka's hand in his and squeeze the larger fingers tightly.

"Hai, Taka-san," he said softly. "You're right. Gomen."

Taka seemed surprised that his words had had the desired effect. His mouth opened and closed without sound for a moment, then he shook his head and managed, "So…you'll come back to practice?"

Fuji nodded, and at last let go of Taka's hand in order to pick up his tennis bag and sling it over one shoulder. "Aa, I'll come back. And Taka-san…"

"Hm?"

He smiled, not the easy, fake smile that hid his eyes, but a real one, one that let Taka see the truth of the emotion in his gaze. "Arrigato."

They walked back to the courts together, their arms brushing lightly as they moved. Fuji had to admit that Taka's presence always had a calming influence on him, and now was no exception. It seemed that the ache in his chest had lessened considerably since Taka had drawn him from his dark thoughts, and even though the fear still lurked in the shadows of his mind, for now, he could drift in the warmth of his friend's presence, and pretend that everything would be all right.

The rest of the team pointedly did not look up when they arrived, but Fuji sensed their attention as he and Taka approached Tezuka. The stern-faced captain was also carefully ignoring them, and didn't glance away from the practice matches until Fuji bowed low and said, "Sumimasen deshita, Buchou."

At that, Tezuka waited another few seconds—just to show that he could, Fuji was sure—and then finally turned to face his wayward teammates. "50 laps," he said. "And ball clean-up for the rest of the week."

Fuji bowed again. "Hai, Buchou."

Tezuka nodded sharply. "Get back to practice."

"Hai."

"Fuji."

He had been turning away, already reaching into his bag for his racket, but he stopped at the sound of Tezuka's voice and turned back.

Tezuka wasn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on a match between Echizen and Momoshiro.

"I understand how you feel," the captain said in his gravelly, toneless voice. "If I thought it would help, I would cancel practice until Oishi and Kikumaru are found." Tezuka shook his head, looking suddenly tired, and like something heavy was pressing down on his shoulders. "But it wouldn't help. Not them…or us. All we can do is what we normally do."

He nodded, but he knew even as he did that it wasn't true. Because that wasn't _all_ they could do, was it?

He had always done whatever necessary to protect his friends. No matter the cost, no matter the danger to himself. Now should be no different.

He would find them, he decided, holding the racket tight in his hands as he waited for Taka-san's serve.

He would find them, and God help whoever he found to be responsible.

* * *

_why_

It was disgusting, that's what it was. Doing that in public, in a restaurant where people could see. It made him sick.

No, not sick. Angry. Furious. How dare they. How dare they flaunt it like that, how dare they act like it was okay, like it was _normal_, when really it was filthy and disgusting and wrong.

Somebody should teach them a lesson, he thought, absently tearing at the edges of the menu. Somebody should…

* * *

_where_

Darkness. Cold stone under his cheek. Pain in his head, in his arms, in his wrists and ankles where the rope cut into his skin. Tears stinging his eyelids, but he didn't dare cry. With the heavy cloth tied over his mouth, he would suffocate if his nose clogged with tears. And no one had been in even once to check on him, so no one would know if he was in trouble. No one would come and take off the gag so he could breathe, so he could cry.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to school, and go to tennis practice, and hang out with Fuji and give Oishi a big hug and laugh and joke about stupid stuff at the noodle place. He wanted this to be a dream, and for him to suddenly wake up and be lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, and then he could go to school and tell Oishi all about it, and Oishi would reach out and touch his shoulder and tell him that it was okay…_daijobu, Eiji…_

The voice wasn't real, it was just Oishi in his imagination, but he latched onto it and let it comfort him. And if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Oishi was sitting there with him. That Oishi's hand was sliding gently through his hair, and that his arms weren't tied behind his back, but were wrapped around Oishi's chest. Oishi's arms were warm and strong around his back, holding him close, and he knew that everything would be okay, because Oishi was here. Oishi was here with him.

"Oishi," he whispered, but it sounded muffled and weird, and that was when he remembered that he was alone in a dark place with a gag pressing into his mouth, and Oishi wasn't here at all.

But he wouldn't cry.

* * *

_how_

Oishi was smiling as he turned onto the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, his body still tingling with the memory of Eiji's lips on his. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that it could turn out this way, that Eiji would not only truly accept his apology and forgive him, but that they would reach this new level of closeness. That they would…kiss. He felt warm just thinking about it, and couldn't help grinning like an idiot at the thought of how perfectly everything had turned out.

There was plenty to worry about, of course, and just because they had kissed didn't mean that Eiji wanted to have _that_ sort of relationship with him…but for now, he felt good, Eiji had forgiven him, and everything was right.

By the time he noticed the van following him, it was too late. It had been trailing him for the last block or so, headlights off, inching along a few feet behind him. He had heard the growl of its motor, of course, and had been at least peripherally aware of it, but only now did he stop to think how odd that was, a van creeping along like that with no lights on. He risked a glance over his shoulder, not really all that concerned, thinking that maybe it was someone wanting directions, or just a bunch of teenagers testing their courage…

The van stopped. All he could see of its occupants were two shadows in the front seats. He shrugged and turned around again, walking a little faster now.

He heard the click of one of the doors opening, then the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the sidewalk. Heavy footsteps, running fast—running towards _him_.

It suddenly occurred to him that it was dark and late and that this particular section of road was so shaded by trees that no one would be able to see what happened here. He didn't waste time glancing behind him—he ran for it, his arms pumping at his sides, his sneakers slapping hard into the sidewalk. In another block or two, there would be an intersection, a 24 hour gas station, people and lights—he just had to get there, outrun whoever-it-was for that long…

But he had forgotten about the van. He remembered it, suddenly, when he heard the squeal of tires and suddenly it was right there beside him. It soared past him, looking like something out of a nightmare in the hellish orange glow of the street lamps—and then it swerved up onto the sidewalk and skidded to a stop, blocking his path and forcing him to slow his frantic sprint and turn, try to go around it—

But it was too late. Rough hands slammed into his back, propelling him forward, and the next thing he knew he was lying face-down on the sidewalk, and someone was wrenching his arms up behind his back and tying his wrists. He tried to struggle, opening his mouth to cry out—

"Don't," a rough voice snapped, and he winced as strong fingers got grip on his hair and yanked backwards, until his head was arched back at a painful angle. "Don't you dare scream. You make a sound and he'll pay for it."

The breath caught in his throat.

No. No, that was impossible. Eiji would be safe inside his house by now—he wouldn't be in any danger from these…

But what if…?

"What are you talking about?" he managed.

The grip on his hair tightened painfully, and the rough voice now seemed tinged with amusement. "Your little boyfriend. You make a sound, and we'll make it real bad for him. So bad you won't recognize him when we're through."

No. No, no, no…

_Eiji…_

Before he could find his voice, a thick strip of cloth was tied tight over his mouth, and he was being dragged up off the ground and shoved towards the van's open door.

It wasn't true. Eiji was fine. Eiji was safe, in his house where his family could protect him. Eiji was _safe_.

He hit the floor of the van hard. It was a moment before he got his breath back, and longer before he could drag himself into a semi-sitting position without the use of his hands. He shook his head to clear it, glancing around the dark, messy interior, able to see only by the faint moonlight seeping through the hinges of the closed door.

Eiji was lying a few feet away from him, looking small and pale with his arms tied behind him, his eyes tightly closed.

He barely noticed the rumble of the van starting, or the jolt of the wheels rolling it back onto the road. He certainly didn't notice his own discomfort, or the way the ropes tore into his wrists as he crawled painstakingly to Eiji's side.

With his arms behind his back, he couldn't reach out to touch his friend. He couldn't pull him into his arms or untie him or do anything but sit there staring, feeling like someone had taken a hold of his heart and was clenching, _twisting_.

_Oh, God, Eiji… _

_Why did they do this to you? _

As the van rocked and jolted on the road, Oishi lowered himself down to the floor, so he was lying on his side facing Eiji. And even though he couldn't wrap his arms around the other boy, he could at least lean their foreheads lightly together, and pray that somehow, Eiji would know he was here. That somehow, Eiji would sense his presence and hold on.

_I'm sorry, Eiji._

_I'm so sorry…_

_I couldn't protect you.

* * *

_

**japanese glossary**:  
_demo_ - but  
_aa / hai_ - yes  
_sumimasen deshita_ - i'm sorry (formal)  
_buchou_ - captain  
_-san_ - honorific / attached to end of name to show respect (e.g., "Taka-san")  
_gomen_ - i'm sorry (informal)  
_arrigato_ - thank you

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

_Aftermath: Part III

* * *

_

He jerked out of a half-doze at a sound he at first thought to be thunder, but soon recognized as the rumble of the van's side door sliding open. He blinked into the blinding beam of a flashlight, and realized as he did so that he was still lying on his side facing Eiji, their legs and chests lightly touching.

"Look at that," came a soft, disgusted voice. "They're still trying to get it on, even when they're all tied up like that. God, it makes me sick."

The words echoed through his head for a few seconds, not making any sense, maybe because he didn't want them to. Because if _that_ was why they had been taken--if _that_ was why Eiji had been hurt and tied up and kidnapped...

He was spared having more time to think about it when one of the men--the big one who had tackled him on the street--crawled inside the van and grabbed him by the arm. Soon he was being dragged outside, pain shooting through his arm and shoulder, his feet desperately seeking purchase--

He was dropped suddenly onto his stomach on a bed of wet leaves, the scents of damp earth and pine filling his nose--and telling him, in no uncertain terms, just exactly where they had been taken.

A forest.

God.

They were going to kill them out here, weren't they?

They were going to kill them. Why else drag them all the way out into the woods?

He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly so afraid that he could feel every heartbeat jarring through his entire body.

No one would know where they were. No one would even know that they were missing until morning, probably, and by then...by then, their captors could have killed them a hundred times over.

He felt suddenly sick, but with the gag in place, there was nothing he could do. So he drew in a deep breath through his nose and forced himself to open his eyes.

Eiji slammed into the ground beside him, limp as a doll. Oishi watched, stricken, as Eiji's cheek hit hard into the ground, staining his pale skin with mud, dirtying the white band-aid that stuck there. And still, Eiji didn't move. Still, he just lay there with his eyes closed, leaving Oishi feeling cold and lost and alone.

And angry.

By shifting his jaw, he managed to loosen the gag, get it to slide down to his chin.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded, hating the desolate echo of his shout in the distance. He heard the stomp of heavy feet and hurried on, "Why are you--"

He had been able to see them before only by the bright points of their flashlights. Now, he saw the thick shadow of the big one hovering just above him, only a moment before he felt the boot smash into his chest like a sledgehammer.

The air rushed from his lungs so fast that he couldn't even cry out. Pain stabbed through his chest, hot and piercing, and for long minutes, all he could do was lay there on the muddy ground, choking air into his lungs even though every inhalation--every slight shift of his ribs--jolted through him like another kick.

Dimly, he felt the gag being fitted back into place over his mouth, and then he was being lifted off the ground and dragged away. He got one more glimpse of Eiji, red hair falling over closed eyelids, before the pain clouded his vision entirely, and he sank wearily into darkness.

* * *

Something in him winced, but it was so small he barely noticed. Because that stupid fag deserved it, and it wasn't like it was gonna kill him or something, getting kicked like that. It'd just make him hurt for awhile, and maybe teach him that he couldn't get away with shit like this anymore--that maybe the fag-lovers back where he lived would put up with that lovey-dovey shit between him and the red-headed kid, but _they_ sure as hell wouldn't. 

He felt good as they dragged them off to the cabin. Good, but also weird, like this wasn't real, like it was just some fucked up dream or something--because yeah, he liked to talk big. They both did. But actually _doing_ something like this? Actually knocking out that kid on his front porch, and then grabbing his boyfriend off the street after that mad fucking car chase--who would believe he'd actually do something like that?

And maybe he wouldn't have, if he was alone. But he wasn't--he'd made sure of that when he picked up his cell phone in the restaurant--and now it was like both of them were playing some twisted game of chicken or something, seeing how far they could take this before it was either get off the road or get hit.

And hell, it was kinda fun, too. Seeing that scared look in the kid's eyes, knowing that it was because of them that he was so scared. It was a rush, a thrill. It made him feel like he was alive, like he was a man. Like he could do _anything_.

But still, something in him winced.

* * *

"Fuji...ano..." 

Fuji glanced back over his shoulder, surprise flickering across his features. It was getting late, the sky already darkening into evening; the laps and ball clean-up had taken longer than he'd thought they would, and so only now was he lugging his tennis bag out through the school gates and onto the sidewalk.

Taka, he saw, had been leaning against the wall just beside the gates--waiting?

"Taka-san," he said pleasantly, but even he could hear the edge of weariness in his voice. "You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

Taka flushed and looked at the ground. "Well...actually...sort of." He glanced up at Fuji's face. "Did Tezuka really make you run all those laps?"

Tezuka, in a rare showing of mercy, had decided to spare Taka from any punishment besides ten laps, provided of course that he swore never to leave practice without permission again.

Fuji smiled and started off down the sidewalk, keeping his steps slow until Taka had jogged forward to catch up. "Aa, he did." He glanced at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. "Demo, Taka-san...shouldn't you be getting home? Doesn't your father needs your help to run the restaurant?"

Taka waved a hand at him, although it was clear by the slight tightening of his jaw that he had been thinking the same thing. "Iya, daijobu. He's always saying I just get in the way, anyway. I'm sure he won't mind if I'm a little late getting there tonight."

He forced himself to take it one step further, offering a concerned, "Will that be all right? I thought Saturday nights were busiest..."

It wasn't right, manipulating Taka this way. He knew it. But he had to do this alone, and he couldn't waste any time. Even if he would rather stay with Taka-san, let himself be comforted by a gentle smile and an understanding ear, he knew that he couldn't. For Eiji and Oishi.

He expected Taka to be convinced by this logic, and to make a soft apology and then hurry home. He did _not_ expect Taka to catch hold of his arm and drag them both to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Fuji," he said firmly, "I know you're trying to get rid of me."

His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, didn't acknolwedge or deny it.

"Whatever it is you're planning to do...you shouldn't do it. The police are doing everything they can to find Eiji and Oishi, and so there's nothing we can--"

Something inside of him snapped, and he wrenched his arm out of Taka's grasp. He was shaking, little trembles shuddering up his spine, but he tried to ignore them, tried to breathe deeply and slowly so the shaking would fade, so he could hide behind his calm smile and convince Taka to leave.

Taka was staring at him, looking stunned and a little hurt, but mostly concerned. "Fuji..."

He dodged the hand that tried to touch his shoulder, and instead turned to keep walking. The smile burned on his face. "Taka-san, I appreciate that you want to help. But everything's fine. I understand that there's nothing I can do, and I'm perfectly willing to let the police--"

"No. Fuji..." Suddenly Taka was right in front of him, blocking his path, his eyes dark with determination. "I saw the look in your eyes at practice. It's the same look you had when we faced St. Rudolph--when you played against Mizuki. It's the look that you get when...when one of your friends has been hurt, and you decide to get even. Demo, Fuji...this isn't tennis. You can't challenge whoever took Eiji and Oishi to a match, or use one of your Triple Counters, or..."

"I know that," Fuji said quietly. "I don't intend to."

Taka shook his head helplessly. "Then what...?"

"I'm going to find them," he said in a low voice, and the look in his eyes, reflected back to him through Taka's eyes, was terrifying. "I'm going to find them, and after I help Eiji and Oishi, I'm going to make them pay."

Taka actually took a step back from him, and even he himself was a little taken aback, hearing the cold, deadly note to his voice. But at the same time, he knew that he meant it. He knew that he would do whatever he had to to get Eiji and Oishi back, and to make sure that whoever had taken them regretted it.

He offered Taka a calm smile. "Good night, Taka-san. I'll see you in school tomorrow."

He was still trembling as he brushed past Taka and started off down the sidewalk, but by the time he reached the restaurant, he was back in control, calm and composed, coolly focused.

He hoped Taka-san would understand. But even if he didn't, even if this marked the end of their warm, dependable friendship, he knew that it would be worth it, if it would bring Eiji and Oishi safely home.

Fixing a serene smile onto his face, Fuji pushed open the door and stepped in through the restaurant's lacquered doors. His gaze stayed focused on the cash register and the man waiting in front it, and never once flickered to the side, to the booth by the windows where Eiji and Oishi were not sitting.

* * *

**japanese glossary**:  
ano - um...  
-san - honorific; attached to end of name to imply respect (e.g., "Taka-san")  
aa - yes  
demo - but  
iya - no  
daijobu - it's all right 


	4. Chapter 4

_Aftermath: Part IV

* * *

_

Fuji watched them silently, his shoulder pressing lightly against the wall of the school building.

They were high school students, no older than sixteen or seventeen. One was thin and lanky, with shaggy brown hair that fell over his eyes, while the other was shorter but more muscular, a heavy-set boy with a round face and a head of dark stubble. The thin one was still wearing the jacket the restaurant owner had remembered, a Seigaku High varsity jacket with his surname – Ikagawa – stitched in blue letters across the sleeve.

Fuji gave a tight smile at the sheer dumb luck of it all, and continued his silent vigil as the boys made their way down the sidewalk, heading away from the school building and towards the front gates. He let them take a few steps off of school property, then he followed them.

The van was parked around the corner, gray and rusting. When he saw the two boys piling into it, Fuji hesitated for only a fraction of a second, then began a quick survey of the surrounding cars, his fingers tugging covertly on door handles as he passed. The third one he tried clicked obediently open, and a brief search of the car's interior showed a spare key taped to the underside of the visor.

By the time he had adjusted the seat for his smaller frame and fitted the key into the ignition, the van was just pulling out onto the street, its left taillight a glaring red through the shattered casing. Giving silent thanks that his sister had taken the time to teach him the basics last summer, Fuji slid the car into gear and followed. The words _grand theft auto_ never once crossed his mind.

Almost forty minutes later, the van skidded off the pavement and onto a dirt road that ran through the woods. Fuji didn't dare follow, knowing it would make his intent too obvious, and so kept driving--but once the van was out of sight, he pulled over, scrambled out of the car, and took off at a sprint down the dusty road that still bore the imprints of heavy tire tracks. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest, his breath coming fast, and it had nothing to do with the sudden exertion.

Eiji and Oishi had been missing for five days. What had happened to them in that time? What state would he find them in? _Would_ he find them?

Knowing that worrying wouldn't help, he shoved the thoughts out of his mind, sucked in another lungful of air, and kept running.

* * *

He wanted to just let them go. It was cool having them here, yeah, fun to fuck with their minds and stuff, but it was getting less and less fun every day. He was tired of watching Jun beat up on the dark-haired kid, and _really_ tired of listening to the red-headed one crying. He wanted to just forget that this whole thing had ever happened--just drop the two of them by the side of the road or something and leave it at that. 

But it was finally dawning on him that it couldn't be that simple. Not anymore. Because the most important thing in this whole fucked up mess was making sure that they didn't get caught, right? And if they let these guys go...

Well, shit, they'd seen their faces, hadn't they? It was always kinda dim in the cabin, so maybe they hadn't seen them well enough to identify them or anything, but still. They'd been _seen_. And if they just dumped them out on the road, those two would lead the cops right back to the cabin the first chance they got, and who'd be in trouble then, huh? It was his _dad's cabin_, for fuck's sake--all the cops had to do was look up whose name was on the deed and he'd be caught.

But what the hell else were they supposed to do with them? It wasn't like they could just leave them tied up here forever.

He knew there was another way. There was a way to make _sure_ no one could identify them or lead the cops back to the cabin...but that wasn't something he wanted to think about, so he didn't.

But Jun did.

At first, he was sure Jun was just talking big, trying to scare them with empty threats, but now he wasn't so sure. Because the last time they were here, when Jun was teaching the dark-haired kid a lesson for trying to help his boyfriend get away, Jun had said some stuff that sure as hell hadn't sounded like he was bluffing. Stuff about his old hunting knife, and what he was gonna do with it--what he was gonna do to the red-headed kid. And all the time, the red-head was sitting right there, listening to him talk about it, just sitting there and shaking, not making a sound, just _shaking_...

He pushed the thoughts away and forced himself to return to the present. Jun was just easing the van to a stop by the cabin, which meant he was going to have to figure out what to do pretty damn quick. As he climbed out of the van, he started thinking that maybe he could convince Jun to drop the kids off at some other road, way far from here so there'd be no chance of them finding their way back. Or maybe they could--

He stopped.

Jun was walking up the cabin's steps ahead of him, arms swinging casually at his sides, same as ever...but there was something attached to his belt, something that was glinting a steely silver in the fading light.

The realization hit him like a punch to the ribs, and for a minute it was hard to breathe.

This was for real.

This was no game, no joke. This was real. Jun was going to do it. He was seriously going to do it. And that left him with only one question worth answering.

_Am I going to stop him?

* * *

_

By the time Fuji reached the cabin, the patches of sky visible through the leaves had shifted to a deep, midnight blue, and he could barely see the hazy shape of the path in front of him. But the glow from the cabin's windows drew him the last fifty feet or so, and finally he found himself standing in the dusty driveway with the cabin just a few feet away, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath, the van beside him clicking quietly to itself as it settled.

His legs were burning and shaking from the run, his lungs spasming from the exertion, but he forced himself to take no more than a few seconds' rest. When they had passed, he took one last deep breath, pushed aside his exhaustion, and started up the building's rickety wooden steps, keeping his footsteps quiet and taking care to stay out of the line of sight of the windows.

He was just lifting his foot from the last step when he heard it.

"STOP IT!"

A scream, hoarse and barely recognizable, echoing in on itself in the confines of the cabin. For a long moment, Fuji couldn't move.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! _OISHI!_"

When the voice cracked on the last word, desperate and panicked and somehow still so _Eiji_, Fuji felt something in him change. The discomfort and the fatigue drained from his body in a rush, and all that was left was a cold, clenching rage.

Not even bothering to look around for a weapon, he walked over to the front door, twisted the knob, and kicked his foot hard into the wood. It hit the wall with a crash that made the floor tremble, but he barely noticed; his eyes were fixed on the scene playing out inside the cabin.

Oishi was on the floor, face down, hands tied savagely behind his back. The heavier of the two boys was crouched over him with a hunting knife clasped in one hand, the blade poised over the tender skin of Oishi's throat. Eiji was a few feet away, struggling violently in the grip of the other boy--Ikagawa. Eiji, too, was bound, but somehow he was still managing to put up an impressive fight, slamming the back of his skull into his captor's shoulder, arm, face, lashing out with his feet, using his entire body as a weapon. His eyes were wild, frenzied, not even seeming to notice that Fuji had entered the room. His only concern was Oishi--reaching him, saving him, or dying in the attempt.

At Fuji's sudden entrance, the boy with the knife spun around, his eyes going wide--but the weapon remained at Oishi's throat. If given time to think...if given time to move his wrist even an inch...

Fuji didn't hesitate. He sprang forward, moving with the agility and speed that seemed to visit him only on the tennis courts, and slammed into the boy in a full-body tackle, knocking him onto his back on the floor. The boy recovered from his shock fairly quickly, trying to raise the knife, use it against him, but Fuji didn't give him the chance. He grabbed one thick wrist and crushed it into the ground, listening to the satisfying clatter of the knife falling to the floor--but it wasn't enough, he knew it wouldn't be enough, so he got his legs underneath him and twisted around and brought his foot down hard on the boy's wrist, grinding the flesh under his shoe until he heard bone break.

The boy let out a howl and lashed out with his other hand, curling it into a fist; Fuji dodged it easily and came back with a blow that knocked the boy's head backwards, the back of his skull impacting hard with the floor. He wound back his arm for another punch, but the sound of footsteps from behind distracted him; he turned just as Ikagawa's hand clapped onto his shoulder and wrenched him away from his target.

He staggered backwards, nearly losing his balance, and grabbed onto Ikagawa's arms in a reflexive attempt to steady himself. They struggled for a few moments, shoving back and forth, trying to force the other off-balance, before Fuji finally managed to plant his feet and push Ikagawa hard away from him. He stopped then, only just noticing that the other boy--the one with the _knife_--was no longer lying on the floor where he'd left him--

A hand grabbed onto the back of his shirt and tugged; he stumbled back a few steps just as a flash of metal tore past him, catching the hem of his shirt and clawing a long slit through the fabric. He spun around, confused, and saw Eiji standing there behind him with a hand still caught in his shirt, his face dirty and tear-streaked, his eyes shadowed and rimmed with red. Sluggish trails of blood seeped from his wrists, coating his palms and dripping from the ends of his fingers, and Fuji realized with a slow kind of horror that Eiji had managed to rip his hands free of their bonds by using his own blood as lubrication.

All of this lanced through his mind over the course of an instant, and then he was spinning back around to face the boy with the knife. The weapon was clutched in his left hand, his right hanging limply at his side, and the expression on his face was murderous. Fuji knew immediately that this boy meant to kill him, and Eiji and Oishi too, if he could.

Instinctively, he took a small step backwards so his body was shielding Eiji, his arms held out to the sides to keep the other boy behind him. He prayed their attacker didn't notice Oishi still lying there on the floor; if he did, and decided to use Oishi as a hostage...

But the boy didn't even glance at Oishi; the whole of his attention was on Fuji, a tight grin baring his teeth as he took one step forward, then two, the knife trembling slightly in his white-knuckled grip.

"Jun!" came a hoarse cry from the other side of the room. It was Ikagawa, Fuji realized; the taller boy was picking himself up from the floor where he had fallen, his eyes wide and fixed on the glinting length of the knife. "Jun, come on, let's just get the hell out of here! Fuck these guys, man, let's just _go_!"

Jun's gaze didn't even waver; it was as if he hadn't heard the other boy at all. He took another lumbering step forward, and Fuji matched it with another backward step, feeling Eiji shivering against his back, listening to his friend's harsh, quick breaths as they whispered past his ear. Eiji's fingers were still wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, clutching it tightly; he could feel the damp warmth of blood as it seeped into the material from Eiji's cuts.

Jun grinned at him, a dangerous, feral glint in his eyes. "You're gonna pay for this," he said in a low voice. "You think you can just come in here and fuck with us? You think you can get away with that? You're _dead_, you hear me? But not before your fag friends get it first." He took another step, his eyes flickering to the wall behind Fuji, no doubt thinking of trapping him against it--

But Fuji didn't move back this time. He stayed where he was, the knife scant inches from his chest, and looked at Jun with eyes that made the grin fade from the older boy's face.

Fuji's voice was soft, deadly. "You aren't going to touch them. Not again. And as for me..." He lowered his arms. "You can try."

He would never remember the next moments clearly. They would always seem fragmented, blurred, a whirl of motion and sound and sensation. The press of Eiji's fingers, digging into his shoulder. The whine of approaching sirens, still distant but drawing inexorably closer. The thud of retreating footsteps as Ikagawa sprinted out the door. The strangled cry that burst from Oishi's throat, coupled with the scrape-rustle of him trying to struggle to his feet, trying to reach them in time.

The subtle shift of expression in Jun's eyes as he lunged forward.

He must have moved. Looking back on it, he knew he must have, because otherwise the blade would have been buried to the hilt in his chest, and he would've been dead. So he must have moved. But he had no memory of doing so, or of dragging Eiji with him, or of grabbing Jun by the back of the neck as he passed and driving his face into the wall. For him, there was only that moment of cool, perfect concentration as Jun leapt at him--

And then he was kneeling on the other side of the room with no memory as to how he'd gotten there, cradling his left arm to his chest and staring--watching as the blood trickled from the swollen lump of Jun's nose. Watching as the other boy lay there, still and limp, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as the blood pooled around him.

He wasn't sure what disturbed him more--the realization that he was capable of such sudden, merciless violence...or the fact that some small, dark part of him was disappointed to see Jun still breathing.

"F...Fuji..."

He snapped out his thoughts and turned his head. Eiji was sitting beside him, dirty and still bleeding. He looked thin and pale, a shadow of the energetic boy he knew, his eyes dark with fear and uncertainty, his school uniform torn nearly to rags...

But he was _Eiji_, and he was all right.

_He was all right. _

Fuji felt the hot tears streaking down his cheeks, but he made no attempt to hold them in. He let them come, let them wash over him and cleanse him, and reached out with a shaking arm to pull Eiji close. He held onto his friend for a long time, burying his face in the soft red hair, holding Eiji so tightly that he wondered if he was hurting him, but he couldn't seem to loosen his grip. Eiji didn't complain, though, and wrapped thin arms around Fuji in return, his entire body shaking with cold or fear or both.

"E...tto..."

Fuji opened his eyes, not even realizing he'd closed them, and blinked through the tears to see Oishi standing in front of them. It was the first time Fuji had seen him clearly, and he was startled to find that his face was mottled with a heavy layer of bruising, his lower lip split and bleeding, and that a tiny cut traced the side of his neck, presumably from the pressure of the knife against it. He felt the rage flare in his chest again, but he was too tired to do more than let it burn itself quietly out.

Oishi, not noticing his regard, turned his body slightly to reveal the ropes that still lashed his wrists together.

"Gomen, but...could one of you untie me?"

Eiji gave a sound somewhere between a choked sob and a laugh and crawled to his feet, leaving Fuji's arms empty and cold. A moment later, he was fumbling with Oishi's bonds, muttering under his breath about how tightly they'd been tied and wincing when the coating of his own blood made his fingers slip. Fuji was just tensing his muscles to go help him when they heard heavy footsteps from outside, and suddenly policemen were pouring in through the doorway, flashlights and guns held at the ready.

Finally. He had put in the call from his cell phone almost twenty minutes earlier, only barely managing to gasp out the details of the situation as he ran.

As several flashlight beams focused on him at once, Fuji climbed wearily to his feet--and it was only then that he noticed the gash that traced the underside of his arm, a slim line of crimson that marked the three or four inches that had separated him from death.

He stared at the mark for a long time, then drew a deep breath, raised his head, and pointed to the still body in the corner. "That's him," he said tiredly. "The other one ran away, but I can give you his name."

He only half-listened as one of the police mentioned having caught Ikagawa as he tried to run. He was so tired all of a sudden, and for some reason was starting to shiver, even though it really wasn't that cold. He wondered if he was getting sick.

When the paramedics arrived, they caught sight of his arm and tried to usher him out, but he shooed them away, telling them in no uncertain terms that they should see to Eiji and Oishi first. He did, however, allow one of the medics to bandange his arm--_outside_ the ambulance--and when she wrapped a blanket over his trembling shoulders, he didn't protest.

He let her persuade him to go to the hospital, finally, but only because that was where Eiji and Oishi were going, and he wanted to keep an eye on them. His friends were strong, but something like this must have taken their toll on even them. So he let himself be helped into the ambulance, and sat very quietly in the back corner for the entirety of the ride, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he watched Eiji and Oishi lying in exhausted sleep on their respective stretchers, their hands intertwined even in sleep.

And finally even he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and drifted off with the warmth of the blanket seeping into his skin, the last of the tears still drying on his cheeks.

* * *

**japanese glossary**:  
etto – um…  
gomen - sorry 


End file.
